To Impose Order upon Chaos
by Albericus
Summary: ME1 timeline. John Shepard is the best humanity has to offer. Follow him as he struggles against all the galaxy can send to oppose him, while trying to finally find peace. Slight AU/W40k. Thanks to Setrus for his description of Quarians.
1. Chapter 1

Imposing Order upon Chaos: a Mass Effect FanFic

_This story is about the rise of Commander John Shepard as the Savior of the Citadel, and about the peoples he will meet during his journey. Slight Warhammer 40k crossover, due to a new crewmember. Rated M for language and possible later sexual content._

_It is my very first story here, and my first story in English end of the line. This is why I will appreciate your critics, corrections and everything that might help me to improve, even on the most insignificant things._

_Shepard is a strange man, ruthless in battle, he will crush every single opposition with little more emotion than a machine, but can easily turns into a paragon of virtue amongst his friends._

_Leading by example, he is the best. But once the battle is over, what happens to the man?_


	2. Chapter 2 : Commander Shepard

**There we are ! The first chapter of what I hope will be a long , very long serie ! I will try to get at least on chapter a week, but I have the feeling it's gonna be hard. Beeing French, I have some problems writing in english, so I hope you will help me to improve. Whatever. Enter Commander Shepard, Lion of Elysium, Son of Terra, and psychotic badass. **

* * *

><p>Something was not right. He could feel it.<p>

"Com'on kid'o. We're not done here." The voice rang into the darkness, bringing back to life images he would have rather forgot. His own gaze was staring back at him, from the cracked mirror of the filthy bathroom of an old abandoned factory. At this time, the boy who would become the fearsome Commander Shepard was nothing but a brat without parents, like so many others in the streets of New York. Short, dirty black hairs were hanging around a face as white and as cold as ice. Only his blue eyes were betraying his future, burning with a flame of sheer will. The will to survive, no matter the cost.

A pained cry echoed through the factory. Tearing his gaze from the mirror and leaving the room, the boy took a look at the scene playing before him as a heavy hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder.

"T'is 'bout time. What took you so damn long ?", spat the man.

"Sorry Flinch." ,was the quiet answer, "won't happened again."

"Better not…" he grumbled as another shout silenced them both. In the middle of the hangar, a lone man tied to a steely chair was surrounded by half a dozen thugs, each of them pacing around like savage animals, on the verge to break their leash. Only one man was standing, unmoved neither by the call for mercy nor the blood thirsty howls. An aura of authority surrounded the man and his voice was steady as one of his men slammed once again a crowbar on one of their victim's knee.

"You've disappointed me Carl", he sighed, almost compassionate, "I gave you home and protection, didn't I ? "

Moaning through his broken teeth, the man only managed to spill more blood on his face.

"And all I was asking for, was a little respect. " The face of the man was a mask of contempt. "But even that you couldn't give me, could you Carl?"

This time, he managed to speak.

"John please…", he choked as a fist suddenly impacted with his jaw, unbalancing the chair and sending him to the floor.

"Don't you dare speak to me you miserable piece of shit!", eructed the man as he raised a foot above Carl's face and slammed it down with all his weight. The sound of broken bones filled the factory as John hit the man, again and again until he barely moved anymore. Breathing deeply, the chief of the Tenth street Reds turned slowly, coming to a stop only when his gaze found the whelp's.

"Come here child" , he said all anger gone, "It's time for you to learn something."

Seeing the boy unmoving, Flinch ruthlessly shoved him forward. Uncaring for the glare of the Reds, his gaze fixed on the pathetic excuse of a man curled on the floor, he merely noticed that something hard and cold was pushed between his fingers as John was kneeling at his side, eyes as cold as the gun he just gave him.

"You know the deal kid…We take care of you and your sister, and you take care of some problems for us."

Shaking lightly, the whelp glanced down at his hand wrapped around the heavy caliber, staring at it for several long seconds.

"Or", pursued an impatient John, "We could take really good care of her…Would you like that kid ?"

Something broke into the boy. His gaze hardened and his shakes stopped. He took a quick step forward and leveled the gun to Carl's face. He shot once. Behind him, he could nearly feel the glee of the Reds leader.

Darkness took him.

* * *

><p>He grew larger. Still, it was not enough. The day had begun on a joyful note. Both him and his little sister were humming lightly in their kitchen.<p>

On his arm, the pain caused by his recent gang's tatoo was nothing compared to the sheer joy he felt at the sight of his sister looking at the cake in front

of her.

On top of it, four candles were alight, brightening slightly their small apartment. The anniversary cake was a luxury, but the smile of the girl was worth any price. She looked at him, unsure how to procede.

"Make a wish." he muttered. She flashed an even brighter smile at him and closed her eyes. And then all hell broke loose.

The door of their apartment disappeared in a flash, throwing both of them off their feets. Through the smoke, black figures clad in massive armor came, weapons at the ready. The first of them spotted the childrens and walked straight at them.

Shaking, the boy raised and tried to stand in the path of the soldier.

His poorly aimed fist was deflected as nothing more but a mere nuisance while an armored boot was thrust into his stomach, leaving him suffocating on the dirty floor of their house. In the far, he could still hear his sister screaming his name as she was dragged out of their home. Of the two of them, it was her that managed to knock out one of the soldiers, her body aglow with biotics. It did not seem the least bit confusing to them. They just took her. And now here he was, almost passed out, alone. He tried to raise again, only to feel a foot flattening him to the ground. He tried to crawl his way out of his trap. A shot rang and a jolt of intolerable pain carved his way through his stomach. As everything seemed to fade away, he could still see the ruin of a cake on the floor, the four candles still burning.

Darkness took him.

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><p>Someone saw the fire. That's how they founded him. The governement. Alone, no parents, no friends, no future. He was eleven and they took him. For his own good they said.<p>

Now he was sitting in a large white room. Cleaner than ever. High-pressure shower do that. In front of him, a not so young woman was gently smiling at him. Behind her, a large grey-haired man was standing, military dressed and looking as straight as law. His gaze was hard, critical, demanding. The boy stared back, unmoved. The woman was speaking again, but he couldn't quite get himself to listen at more vapid feelings. The old man never blinked, but as their contest went on, a sharp smile slowly crept across his face.

A snap brought the boy's attention back to the lady. She was in military outfit too, now that he was taking a moment to notice. More important, she was pissed.

"I'm not use to people not listening at me boy" , she barked with a voice used to order people around, " and I won't have that around here!"

As if kicked by instincts long forgotten, the boy found suddenly himself holding his back straighter and listening to the woman in front of him.

"That's more like it " ,she grumbled before throwing a glance at the man behind her.

"He has some spirits" ,he said, " I like him."

"Right" ,she replied, "Should have known you would fall for a hard-headed one." She turned back to the boy.

"You want to get out of here son?"

There was only a moment of hesitation before the answer came out, thrown out as if burning his lips. "Yes."

"Then you might call us mother and father. I am Hannah Shepard. What is your name?"

He went silence for a few seconds as he thought of something fitting.

"John."

Darkness took him.

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><p>If there was a hell, he would gladly give up his shore leave at Elysium for one week down there. Another shot missed him by only an inch. He was getting sloppy. Crouching behind his cover and correcting his aim, his riffle let out a new burst of fire and the last Batarian went back with a howl of agony. There dead were starting to make piles across the streets. John had long lost the sense of time. The only thought across his mind was simple, hold the breach or die. Talking about that...His gaze travelled across the volunteers who had chosen to take the arms at his sides. Only dead eyes stared back. His gaze went upon the nearest, a woman, civilian. Three bloody holes in the chest, a mask of shock upon her face. Snarling, he grabbed her by the collar and dragged her cold body across the floor and dropped her among the pile of dead civilians before resting the barrel of his rifle on the top of them as once again he knelt behind the corpses. From the far, alien's howls were echoing upon the wind as the slavers were getting ready for an another assault.<p>

Shepard merely cocked his weapon.

_Let them come…_

Darkness took him.

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><p>Billions of screams. Entire worlds burning. The methodical and relentless extermination of an entire galaxy. This time, the darkness remained. Snarling, the man fought the visions, pushed them back as he refused to be overwhelmed by the primal fear that surrounded him. The Lion of Eltsyium roared and darkness fell back.<p>

Lieutenant Commander John Shepard was not used to dream. For him, a casual night was empty as the void. He was not used to feel every inch of ruthlessness he had to display to merely survive. He was not used to be _sane_ while slaughtering people and then using their bodies as cover. He was for sure not used to feel the death of a whole specie. He blinked. The darkness disappeared, only to be replaced by a white ceiling. He went still for long minutes, trying to put any sense on what he just saw. He blinked again and brought a hand to rub his eyes hard, finally figuring out that he was in the Normandy's infirmary.

_Jenkins KIA…Perky Turian Spectre KIA…Gunnery Chief Williams, alive. Or I hope so. _

As if his movement had turned on a switch, someone out of his vision shouted something he couldn't bring himself to understand.

"Gotta stop the booze…"

_Oh that's right. The beacon…_

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><p><strong><em>Thanks to sergiusthegreat for his help.<em>**


	3. Chapter 3 : Enter the heroes

**There, Second chapter of this story ! I know it was long, but I am really trying my best. Lots of talk here, not much action, that will come soon, I promise. Also, first look at the OC.**

**As much as I would like it, I do not possess any of these characters/lores. Mass Effect belongs to Bioware. Warhammer 40k Belongs to Games Workshop.**

**For future chapters, here's a little something I've been thinking about. After some research, It seems that Mass Effect traductors mostly work audio-to-video or video-to-video. The different races are actually speaking a common language, the "trade language". And that makes sense. I mean, how could a traductor translate an accent? And yes, I am thinking about a certain Quarian.**

**So, let's have this:**

"Blah blah blah" = common speach, understandable by every character of the scene.

"**Blah blah blah**" = when a character speak in his own tongue, english/japanese/french/whatever for humans, khelish for Quarians and so on...

_Blah blah blah_ = Thoughts

**Reviews are of course much appreciated.**

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><p>Commander Shepard was a giant of a man, his sheer presence dwarfing most of those he stood by. In the fray, he was a whirlwind of deadly strikes and lethal shots, his already imposing frame made even more massive when clad in his black N7 hardsuit. Teeth clenched in cold rage, his bulk moving at unsuspected speeds, few things in the galaxy were more frightening than the sight of the Commander Shepard in battle.<p>

As an eye-witness of Shepard's martial prowess against a force of machines not seen in this side of the galaxy for the last two hundred years, Ashley Williams was quite shocked, to say the least, to see the man calmly enduring a berating from an aging woman who had to take a step back to stare him in the eyes.

"Boy, stop putting on the 'Marine act', will you?"

"I'm fine ma'am," sighed the commander. "I really am."

The doctor merely poked him in the ribs, bringing a painful wince on his face. "Well that broken rib does not agree," she said matter-of-factly. "Now sit down. You aren't getting out of here before I am done with you."

"Yes ma'am," he complied.

"And don't ma'am' me. I am not old enough for this."

"Won't dare to think so doc," he said with a smile as he sat on an operation table and start taking off his regular shirt.

_The man actually smiled! The bloody Lion of Elysium, veteran of a hundred operations is able to smile!_

Now that things had calmed down a bit, she was able to watch him more carefully. Shepard was tall. Like, very tall. She already knew that by the stories about him, but at the time she didn't gave too much credit to the legends. After all, most of the time he was described as a giant with lightening storming from his eyes and breathing fire balls at his victims!

Well, the legends didn't lie about his height. However, they failed to mention the way his black hair was tied in a long braid falling at shoulder height, or the fact that his scar-less visage seemed so cold and intimidating in battle, and yet warmed up when talking to those he seemed to deem worthy of his friendship.

Ashley blinked out of her thoughts and realized the man was bare chest, with the doctor already working on his ribs. She winced when she saw the wound, black dried blood making its way under skin across a large part of his torso. That looked quite… painful. Tearing her gaze from his wound, she noticed the N7 tatoo on his right arm, and an another one, a red '10' on his left arm.

She wondered about its meaning for a few seconds before being shake off her thoughts by the sound of his laugh. It was a low and warm sound, somehow reminding her of a Krogan she met once. Just before he tried to tear the head off a civilian.

This time however, it seems Shepard was just sharing a joke with the good doctor. No tearing heads off. _Good._

Somehow sensing it was her chance to introduce herself, the Gunnery Chief took a step toward the commander, who had yet to acknowledge her presence, and snapped to salute.

"Gunnery Chief Williams, reporting sir." The smile disappeared from his face and the man glared at her, letting Chakwas working on his wound.

"At ease, chief." The way he just said those words did not put her at ease. Not at all!

"Glad to see you've made into one piece Williams," he said unblinking. "Next time, stay away from the weird looking alien device, will you?"

_So much for a good first impression._

"Will do sir," She said, trying not to show how sorry she was. "I'm glad you made it too sir. And I have to say it is an honor to serve with you, sir."

He raised an eyebrow. "Serving with me?"

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><p>"That would be right commander." The new voice was coming from the entrance of the infirmary and in the moment he heard it, Shepard jumped to attention, nearly dropping Chakwas in the process and tearing out an indignant yelp from her.<p>

"Captain," he saluted.

"At ease Shepard," the man said as he slowly walked to stand before him. "How are you?"

Shepard shuddered as memories from the fight flooded him. Even after all these years of brutal fighting, of savage struggles and merciless drops, nothing prepared him to fight the Geth. It was quite easy to laugh at them. You would think that machines could never best the organics in the ever changing tides of gunfire. Think that instinct and organic way of adapting to every new situation would make short work of everything theses machines could throw at you. You would be so very wrong.

Geth were relentless. Geth do not make any errors, there shots were always aimed to kill. Geth do not feel any fear and could charge without hesitation through storms of bullets thick enough to make a Krogan think twice. Geth were able to move with such perfect synchronization that even Turians commandos looked like amateurs in comparison. And finally, fighting the Geth was a technological nightmare. What chance could you have when every single enemy was trying to hack through your Hardsuit's VI to shut down you shields, overload your weapon, shut down your breather or simply lock your armor? Truth be told, without Alenko and his engineering skills, they would all lie near Jenkins at this very moment.

How did he felt? Terrorized. Wishing from the deepest part of his soul that he would never have to face such a foe again.

"I am fine sir," he answered instead, "Or I would be if the good doctor here would agree to stop prodding my broken ribs."

"I will when you finally stop moving!" She barked back, bringing another smile to the commander's face.

Anderson smiled back, even so lightly. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid the beacon did not fare so well, Shepard."

All trace of amusement fled from Shepard's face. "What happened?"

"I hoped you could answer to that question Commander. All I know is that after you pulled the Gunnery Chief out of the tractor beam," Anderson gestured at Ashley, earning her an another glare from Shepard, and who defiantly stared back, "You were held in the air and the device exploded moments after your release."

Shepard fell silent for a few seconds. Should he talk about his dream? Was that worth anything or would that just put him within the ranks of the good old soldiers that saw too much for their own sake?

He decided against. If needed be, time would come for him to talk about it.

"I can't think of anything relevant sir," he said without flinching. It was not even a lie after all. "I assume Lieutenant already gave you his report?"

"That he did Shepard," Anderson sighed. "Saren Arterius. I can't believe he would go that far."

"Could that have been another Saren?" Shepard asked.

"Doubtful. He had to know Nihlus in order to kill him so easely."

"What about the dreadnought?"

"We still have no clue. My guess would be an advanced Geth warship, but we can't be sure about that," The captain shrugged. "This is of little importance, the Council must be warned."

"We are going to the Citadel then. What's our ETA?"

"Actually, you have been knocked out for quite a long time. We are already docked on the Citadel," Anderson said while turning to take his leave. "Get dressed, we have a lot to do."

"As you order sir," Shepard said, stopping Anderson in his steps. "And thanks for Jenkins number two, here."

Ashley scowled at the man who so lightly made fun of the death of a soldiers under his command, unbelieving that this was the Hero she worshipped.

Anderson however, smiled sadly. "We recovered his body Commander," He merely said. "He will be returned to his family as soon as possible."

Without a word, Shepard nodded grimly and started dressing, a new strip of bandages around his chest.

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><p>In a place where hope was nothing but a vain word, a ship large enough to put the Destiny Ascension to shame and as black as the void was sailing through space. Its inhabitants were, by the Citadel's standard, the worse psychotic madmen ever spawned by whatever hell they came from. Barbaric, xenophobic, ruthless, fanatical, genocidal. Slayers of worlds. They were all of those.<p>

To their people, they were heroes.

The ship was swarming with weapons. Some of them were longer than cruisers and you could fit several tanks in the barrels of others. To all of those who could see this monster, its purpose was obvious and every single angle of its plating was crying a single word. War.

In the belly of the beast, thousands of men and creatures that were no longer human were working as one to keep the vessel running so that it could keep performing its grim charge.

At the center of the ship, in a lone cell, a being was knelt before an altar. The shrine was magnificent hundreds of candles surrounding a stained glass displaying a being made of light, a sword of flames in His hand and buried to the hilt in the limp form of a winged dragon.

The man knelt before the altar of his God chanted softly, eyes closed while the prayer followed its course. He was naked, and his bare body far too large and muscular to belong to a naturally conceived being. It was his fourth hour of meditation and his mind was slowly melting back with his body when the vox alarm of his personal cabin rang. With a sigh, the man allowed his concentration to break and with a final bow toward the altar, he got up and answered the call via a device embedded into the wall of his cell.

"Speak."

The voice that answered him was mechanical, devoid of any emotion.

"Justicar Alaric, by order of High Inquisitor Malach, you are summoned to the bridge."

"Acknowledged."

The vox went silent and Alaric took a deep breath before turning around. On the other side of the room, his armor stared back at him, taller and much more massive than he was. After countless years of desperate fights, he knew his armor. She was a part of him, a part of his soul. Together, they were the Hammer. The perfect embodiment of faith and martial art. Yet, without the other, one was nothing.

Breaking from his day-dreaming, the warrior pressed a button, calling the servitors. They would prepare him and his armor for their joining, like so many times before and, Imperator Vult, many times again.

**Thanks to Colonel-Mustard1990 for his help on this one, and if you haven't, go check his Mass Effect/ Warhammer crossover, it's awesomer than awesome.**

**Colonel Mustard1990: I second this comment****. Also, check out my other stuff. *Brandishes lead pipe and gestures menacingly towards his profile***


	4. Chapter 4 : Spirits and Daemons

**Hey everyone, I'm back ! Well, so long for one chapter a week, uh ? Anyway, this story is not dead ! I swear it upon the Golden Throne of Terra ! Alas, fact is, I do not own ME1 (PS3 owner) and the ideas have a hard time coming, as I refuse to use every speech from the game. I mean, if you wanted to read the same dialogues, you would play the game, not read my crappy fiction, right ? Please tell me if I am wrong ! **

**Anyway, things should be a little smoother once in the ME2 timeline. **

**Crossover should start in one or two chapters, and it shall be good. Or so I hope. **

**Suffering Soldier : Thanks for the support. I might still move this story away, if needed, but I feel it belongs to the Mass Effect universe more than anything else. **

**Chris Adair : Thanks, I'm glad you like it! However, this is another Grey Knight. He just shares the same name. The Mass Effect universe is not prepare for the sheer awesomeness of Alaric ! **

**Colonel-Mustard1990 : It's a chance you were here to help me, I tried to keep your advices in mind. **

**As much as I would like it, I do not possess any of these characters/lores. Mass Effect belongs to Bioware. Warhammer 40k Belongs to Games Workshop.**

"Blah blah blah" = common speach, understandable by every character of the scene.

"**Blah blah blah**" = when a character speak in his own tongue, english/japanese/french/whatever for humans, khelish for Quarians and so on...

_Blah blah blah_ = Thoughts

**Reviews are of course much appreciated. **

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><p><em>Politicians. <em>

In his mind, the word rang like an insult.

_They should be acknowledged as an independent specie and get their own council seat. To make even more politics. _

He mentally shivered.

_Don't give them ideas. Focus. _

As predicted, his shouting match with the Council led them to a dead end. He didn't even bothered telling them about his vision, that would have cause more harm than good.

All in all, he knew what would be the outcome of this meeting. He had accepted it. What infuriated him was not the unwillingness to act of some aliens; it was the impressive inability of the human ambassador to do anything useful that drove him into new depths of frustration.

No wonder the galactic community was looking at the humans as some aggressive brats when their ambassador was unable to do anything else but ranting and making unreasonable demands all the while blaming others for his flaws.

Therefore, it was a quite pissed-off Commander which was rushing through the Citadel's crowd, dragging along a biotic, an Alliance Marine and a justice-hungry Turian, toward the C-sec Academy.

After what seemed an eternity, Shepard cam in sight of a strange view. Among a group of C-Sec agents, the biggest Krogan he ever saw was staring at a poor human who was doing his best to intimidate the giant alien. To Shepard's eyes, his efforts were laughable. Or sad. He couldn't bring himself to choose. Clearly growing impatient, the Krogan waved the human away and took his leave under the anxious gazes of several officers. Seeing an opening, the Commander stepped forward, followed closely by his party.

"Urdnot Wrex!" He called, stopping the Krogan in his tracks.

"Who seeks him?" The alien shot back while turning to face him. _He is enormous_, Shepard realized. In fact, he was towering over him the same way Shepard was used to tower over fellow humans. _The bigger they are…_he mused.

"Commander Shepard. I am about to go for Fist."

"Then go," growled the Krogan, his reptilian eyes unblinking and fixed on Shepard, "Why should I be concerned?"

Too fast to let him react, Shepard grabbed the mercenary by the collar of his armor and brought him to eye-level.

"Because once I start shooting, everything that is not on my side will die."

The Krogan stared back for a long moment, as if he was trying to decide if he should bite his head off now or shoot him first. He blinked once and broke the eye contact first, letting a low chuckle escape his bulk and shrugged Shepard's hand off.

"You have some spirit, human. I'll tag along," he growled. "Be warned though, I'm the one to kill Fist."

"Fair enough," accepted Shepard before turning toward the rest of his group. "Try to keep up."

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><p>The ground shook slightly as Alaric entered the main bridge, each of his steps carrying the full weight of his sacred Terminator power-armor. A few crewmen glanced his way as he walked past them toward the command throne of the ship. The captain was there, a man so old that rejuvenative treatments no longer had any effect on him. For a moment, Alaric wondered about what it would feel like to wither under the blows of time like a mere mortal. He shrugged off the feeling. This was not the fate of the Astartes, let alone the Grey Knights.<p>

The captain Devotos was a small bald man, and despite the fact that his face was a map of wrinkles, his fierce glare could still freeze where they stood any initiates clumsy enough to bring his wrath upon them.

Not that is mattered to the Grey Knight. After a few centuries spent staring down daemons and bloodthirsty avatars of some ancient Gods, only a few things in the galaxy could faze you.

Nonetheless, Alaric still felt somewhat uneasy when the aging captain finally acknowledged his presence with a sharp nod.

"Captain," he saluted the officer "I was summoned by the Inquisitor. Where is he?"

Devotos scowled, unused to be questioned onto his bridge. "Around his quarters, or so I was told. Preparing himself for the experience. I know for certain he demanded the presence of your brothers at his side."

Alaric couldn't help but feel irritated at the statement.

"My brothers and I are not the Inquisitor's servants," He barked "And he did better remember this fact."

"Watch your tone, Astartes," he snapped back "I am no messenger you can vent your frustration upon!"

The Grey Knight was somewhat taken aback by the sudden outburst. They were few, those who dared to openly defy the Adeptus Astartes.

"My apologies captain, I am afraid my zeal had the better of me." He sighed, "My brothers and I are a blade, a hammer to be wield against the Ruinous Powers. Our purpose is not to serve as a glorified security team."

Devotos nodded quietly, all anger gone as suddenly as it came, and let his gaze wandered around the bridge, observing his crew performing it's duty with a precision born from decades of practice.

"I believe we all play a part in His divine plan Justicar. It is not our place to question it, and we ask only to serve," The captain hesitated a mere moment. "However, I must admit that I found myself somewhat…confused by your presence here."

"It is most unusual." Answered Alaric. "But the Inquisitor Malach earned our order's Masters gratitude. When he came to us, asking for our help, we had a chance to repay our debt toward him.

"I see."

"My lords," a young officer interrupted them, handing a data slate to Devotos. "We are currently exiting the Badab System and are ready to open the Warp rift. As predicted, the Maelstrom stands on our path."

"This is it then," stated the Captain. "Let us end this madness, one way or another. Engage the Warp drives, contact master Nero and tell him to be ready to guide us. And put me through the ship's vox system." The officer bowed and left quickly, barking orders to the rest of the bridge.

"All crew attention, this is Captain Devotos speaking. We are about to enter willingly one of the most deadly Warpstorm raging into the Imperium space. If we succeed here, we might be the precursors of a new Era for the Imperium of Man. No matters what happends, stand strong with your faith. The Emperor protects."

"The Emperor protects," muttered back the whole bridge.

"Warp engines report!"

"Fully charged and ready to engage lord, the Adepts just reported that the Machine Spirits are willing. Navigator Nero is ready to take commands. Gellar fields are online."

"Take us in then. Brace for Warp transition!"

The whole ship shuddered, his very frame being put to the test by the incommensurable forces accumulating into his reactors. Into the void of space, a light came from nothing and the thin veil of reality seemed to ripple, as if being flayed by powers that should not exist. Finally, a rift was torn open in front of the massive ship, and through it the essence of madness came pouring into the material world. Splinters of energy tried to get a grip onto the ship, only to be deflected by a flickering orb of silvery light. Unfazed by the hellish dimension it was about to enter, in a fashion made almost arrogant by his invulnerability, the ship went right through the rift, and let it close behind him.

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><p>Tali could almost smell the tension filling the air, and she was in an envirosuit! Fist had set her up, there was almost no doubt about it. And with each second passing, her chances to leave this place alive were getting slimmer.<p>

"The deal's off!" She said with every inch of determination she managed to muster and patted the Turian's hand away from her mask. The low angry growl that escaped him did nothing to ease her fears. From the corner of her vision, she saw the two Salarians tensing up and slowly reaching for their weapons.

_Well_, she thought, _I can play this game too!_ She gauged the three aliens that faced her. If she was fast enough, she could take them down. Taking a slow step back, she prepared a tech grenade and was about to run for it when a loud cry froze them all.

"Hey!"

Four pair of eyes turned toward the top of the stairs. A lone human was standing there and started to walked toward them as if he owned the place. The Turian started to pull out a deadly looking handgun but the human spoke again.

"Fist wants to know what's taking so damn long!"

Tali's world seemed to crumble around her as her hopes of a rescue were crushed while the other aliens relaxed slightly. The human was closer now and she was able to see him clearly. He was clad in a black hardsuit, a single band of red and white running along the length of his right arm, whatever that meant. He was not wearing any helmet and Tali's gaze was naturally attracted by his blue and incredibly cold eyes, other features being quite alien to the young Quarian.

The Turian's mandibles flickered with irritation.

"Everything is under control human, tell Fist to wait for his paycheck. Saren will deal with this beggar."

The man finally came to a stop before them and Tali noticed a small symbol in human script on his right chest plate. N7 provided her helmet's auto-translator. Where had she seen that already? The Turian seemed to notice it too as his glance shifted a few times between the man's face and his armor.

"Where did you get that armor?" He asked "That's Allian…" His eyes went wide with shock as realization hit him and everything went in a blur. He was still trying to warn his men when a long blade of carbon steel protruded out of his lower jaw and pinned it to the upper part of his skull. Still holding the knife, the human swung the agonizing Turian around and used his corpse as a shield while the panicked Salarians fired at him in full-auto, uncaring for the fate of their companion.

Once the Turian's body was riddled with bleeding holes and the Salarian's weapons were overheated, the man allowed the corpse to fall to the ground and pulled out a gun of his own. He swiftly aimed at the Salarians heads and pulled the trigger twice.

Tali watched all of this with morbid fascination. The three henchmen never stood a chance, and the fight had been akin to an execution. She shivered when the human turned toward her and when his cold eyes started burning holes in her mask. His front armor was covered in blue blood.

"You're welcome," he said somewhat smugly "I am here for the evidence Quarian."

Slapping herself mentally, Tali tightened her grip on her shotgun and raised it defiantly.

"Why don't you start by taking a step back and telling me who you are? " She spat.

He shot her and indecipherable look, half amused and half irritated by her refusal to play along his rules, and crossed his arms.

"Commander John Shepard, Alliance Military."

She motioned him to wait and launched a quick extranet search while keeping him at gunpoint. The first result popped onto the mask of her helmet and her translator immediately started deciphering the words into proper khelish, the article was about some human world named Elysium. Her eyes widened the more she read. The man was a hero to his people! And she was pointing a gun at him!

The young Quarian lowered her weapon, looking somewhat sheepish.

"Um…Sorry about that."

"Better safe than sorry, I suppose." The man said, unmoving. "However I must warn you. Never point a weapon at me again."

The words were cold enough to make Tali shiver again.

"I'll try my best," She managed to say. "No promises."

Shepard smiled lightly and allowed his arms to unclench. "Now Miss…"

"Tali'Zorah nar Rayya," she provided. Noticing his confused glare, she added, "Or…Um. Just Tali."

Shepard's smile came back, a little wider and she tried to remember if for humans baring his teeth was a sign of anger or happiness, without much success.

"Well, just Tali," he said earning a groan from the Quarian, "How about having a talk about this evidence you happen to possess?"

"I…I would rather not have this discussion here. It's not safe and…" She gestured at the mess that used to be three living creatures moments ago.

"Right," agreed Shepard, "The human embassy will do."

"What? You mean, on the Presidium?" She asked, somehow startled.

"Last time I check, that's where it was."

"I know! It's just that I never went there, C-sec don't allow Quarians to step into…Such places."

Shepard was about to answer when the sound of hurried footsteps coming from the stairs cut him off. Tali's grip around her shotgun tightened and she shot a worried look at the human at her side, which remained unfathomable. An odd group came into view, a battle-worn Krogan was leading them, his armor riddled by bullet impacts. Next to him, a Turian wearing C-sec uniform was trying to keep up with his pace and behind them another two humans were trying to catch their breath, exhausted by the mad run they just had to pull out.

One of them, a woman it seems was looking somewhat infuriated.

"Are you mad Commander?" She yelled as the group was closing in.

"Chief…" warned Shepard, almost growling. She immediately straightened up.

"Apologies sir. With all due respect, are you mad commander, sir?"

"Apology accepted Williams," he laughed. "N7 training method. I had to know if you could keep up. Let's just say that you can be glad Wrex decided to wait for you."

The Krogan merely grunted, a glint of amusement sparkling through his slit irises.

"Miss Tali," Shepard said, turning once again toward her, "How about we make the presentation while going to the Presidium? We are in sort of a hurry."

Only then did the Quarian loosened her grip on her weapon.

_What have I myself gotten into?_

* * *

><p>They were caught into the claws of the storm. All around them, swirling flows of energy were ensnaring the ship, ramming this parcel of reality that insulted the beings ruling this place by its sheer existence. There and now, some flickers of energy were passing through the shields, unnoticed by the ship's inhabitant, alien minds brushing their thoughts and savoring the meal to come.<p>

"Gellar field integrity is about to fail! The Astropath choir reports that something is pushing at it from the inside!"

The whole bridge was on the edge of full panic. As was the rest of the ship, for sure.

Alaric had since a long time now putted his helmet on, accessing the ship's internal network and allowing him to contact his brothers.

"Brother Marro! Report!"

"Brother-Justicar, there is something amiss here…"

"Where is the Inquisitor?"

"Into his quarters, he ordered not to be disturbed, no matter the emergency!"

"Bring him to me! Dispatch any resistance you encounter, you have my blessing."

"Understood, in the Emperor's name we will…Wait. Did you felt that?"

A moment later, Alaric felt it too. A psychic scream, so sharp it cut through the very fabric of reality. A second past, filled with unreal silence and a single world came through the vox connection of his helmet.

"Daemons!"

Outside the hull, the Gellar field vanished and the Warp swallowed the ship like a starving beast. And from every corner, every single shadows of the Black Ship, hell was unleashed.

Before long, a single voice was all that could be deciphered amongst the screams and mad laughter of men and warp-spawned abominations alike that swarmed the dark corridors of the ship.

"I am the hammer!"

* * *

><p><strong>There you go ! So, what do you think ? Any advices ? <strong>


	5. Chapter 5 : Pride and Shame

**Chapter four's online, and it keep getting longer with each upload. Anyway, this story is not dead ! I swear it upon the Golden Throne of Terra ! **

**Crossover should start in...A few chapters. Maybe? I didn't planned this to take so long. Still, it shall be good. I know it. **

**As much as I would like it, I do not possess any of these characters/lores. Mass Effect belongs to Bioware. Warhammer 40k Belongs to Games Workshop.**

**Also, this chapter contain a shameless ripp-off. Dow II lines and voice acting are THAT awesome. **

"Blah blah blah" = common speach, understandable by every character of the scene.

"**Blah blah blah**" = when a character speak in his own tongue, english/japanese/french/whatever for humans, khelish for Quarians and so on...

_Blah blah blah_ = Thoughts/flashbacks

**Reviews are of course much appreciated.**

* * *

><p><em>Aliens are odd. <em>

These were Tali's main thoughts as she was escorted to the Presidium by the strange group. They were walking their way through the Wards, following a low pace despite their leader previous statement of being in a hurry.

They had all presented themselves to her, names and grades all mashed up together, strange sounds that she could never remember with her state of fatigue. Thus, she managed to link their names with a facial recognition program integrated within her helmet, her visor effectively displaying a name in proper Khelish each time one of them turned his face toward her.

Now that her life was threatened no longer, she tried to take a glimpse from her saviors.

Behind her the Turian officer, Vakarian, was on alert, his keen eye scanning the crowd around them for any suspicious behavior. Even if he tried to be subtle about it, Tali knew he was also watching her, making sure that the 'Quarian vagrant' was not plotting some nefarious plan. She actually was too tired to start a rant about it.

On each of her sides, the biotic and the Alliance marine were talking to each other, oblivious to her presence. Their banter was pleasant, relaxed, even though they were talking in '_In-gleesh'_, the Humans main language. The young pilgrim hadn't learnt this speech, and managed to understand it only thanks to her translator which was printing the translation on her mask in real-time.

She didn't paid attention to the words, but the sound of it was quite pleasant. Closing her eyes, memories of the Flotilla flooded her mind, the soft ever-present babble of the Quarian crowd strangely similar to the two Humans dialogue. For a few seconds, she was able to fool herself in believing that she was back home, making her way through the overcrowded corridors of the Rayya. She sighed soundlessly. That time was behind her.

Opening her eyes, Tali let her gaze wandered once again.

Ahead of the group, the Human clad in black armor, Shepard, was walking alongside the Krogan. They both had their rifles extended and were talking low enough to so that even her enhanced audio sensors could not pick anything. The Human was quite the specimen. His strides were confident, determined. It was as if each step was a challenge to the universe, to dare and try to stop him.

_Cocky_, was her first thought. Arrogance was not a well-looked upon trait, back in the Flotilla. Assurance on the other hand…

The alien was a war veteran, that was for sure. _Obvious as the stars_, she reflected. For a people which faces were forever hidden behind veiled-glass mask, reading body language was a second nature.

The way Shepard moved was predatory, always alert. Each of his movements was impregnated with danger. Her mind went back to their encounter, when she held him at gunpoint. At the time, she had thought that his calm was due to his smugness, that he never conceived that she could dare to open fire upon him.

Truth was, if she had decided to shoot him, he could probably have killed her before she even knew it. The young Quarian shuddered and slowed down slightly her pace, to put some distance between them. His face was an enigma to her. After all, she grew onto the Flotilla, among a faceless people that convey feelings with the smallest change of stance or inclination of the head.

She was just getting used to people sharing emotions through their faces, or even having faces at all!

Needless to say, the concept of beauty was quite alien to her. For now, if someone had asked her to describe the commander, all she could have say is "pleasantly symmetric". Not that anyone would ever bother to ask.

Humans in general were a pleasant surprise. Slightly taller than Quarians, they were almost equally proportioned. Like Asari, in a weird way. Genders added. Not to mention their far too straight legs, but that was a common trait to most alien species and she was already getting used to it.

In the end, there was only one physical trait that fascinated the young Quarian.

_What's with the fur…_

Of all the species she had encountered since the beginning of her Pilgrimage, Humans were the only ones to possess such an attribute. Most of them seemed to keep it short, or mid-long for the women, and Tali was somehow intrigued about the diversity between them. For some, it was looking unhealthy. For others, the long soft curves were definitely a show of beauty.

For the young pilgrim, Shepard belonged to the latters. It was…An exotic sight, to put it mildly, and despite the aura of dangerousness that surrounded the Commander, she founded herself unable to take her eyes off him.

For the first time since what seemed to be weeks of relentless running, of this terrifying game of hide-and-seek she had to play since her discovery, she was finally allowed to catch her breath, to recollect herself and to ponder upon the past days of her pilgrimage. She brought her three-digits hands in front of her and stared at their shaking frame. _Why was she trembling?_ Her gaze was stuck upon a large green stain, spread along her right forearm. _When did it happen?_

* * *

><p><em>She was running, every single ragging breath brings so much pain she curses her body for such a trivial need as oxygen. Light footsteps are following her, closing in despite her powerful strides. She does not dare to slow down to look behind her. She must keep running. A loud sound echoes, eliciting alarmed cries among the crowd around them. Someone shouts out in pain. It takes her several agonizing breaths to realize that it was her, and that her left arm hangs lifelessly at her side, a bloody hole in the middle of her shoulder. Panic threatens to consume her. Flashes of her mother's dead body are conjured by her mind as she imagines the infections already ripping her flesh from her bones. She grits her sharp tooth in pain and tries to focus on her strides. <em>

_THERE! As the crowd finally part away, she sees it. A lone conduit pipe was emerging from a wall, at the end of this level of the Zachera Ward, twenty, maybe thirty meters away, its lock hanging open! A new energy filled her, and the sound of her pursuers started to fade away with their shouts. The last meters are crossed in a matter of seconds and she threw herself into the opening of the pipe, using her right arm to protect her mask. She landed on her left arm and bitted her lips to keep herself from screaming. Stunned by the pain, she barely noticed the feeling of a trickle of blood running along her jaw. _

_She tried to bring her Omnitool online but the sudden movement brought a jolt of excruciating pain through her shoulder. She did not manage to hold her scream this time, as she clutched her wound with her right hand, sobbing lowly. A sudden shout brought her back to her immediate environment and she nearly jumped out of her suit at the sight of a Salarian henchman, his face contorted in a snarl she could not decipher. She felt the alien's hand grabbing one of her feet as he tried to drag her out of the conduit. Coming back to her senses, she started kicking widely, and looked around her for anything she could grab, to no avail. _

_Suddenly, she remembered her departure's gift. Throwing her feet in the Salarian's head, she felt his grip loosening as he swore loudly in his sibilant tongue, allowing her to sit up and grab her shotgun with her right hand. The alien's large eyes only had time to widen before she pulled the trigger and shot him in the face at point-blank range. Green blood burst in all directions, covering her weapon and her right arm as well as a good part of her suit. _

_She took a few ragging breaths, contemplating what was her first living victim, before snapping back to reality. Dropping her shotgun, she used her right hand to prompt her Omnitool to life, and a few moments later the conduit's hatch closed itself. Overriding its controls, she engaged the locks and made sure that no one would be able to open it without a week of intensive hacking. _

_Not even a second later, she heard shouts of frustration from the other side. She was safe, for now. With a sigh, she let herself collapse onto the cold floor of the conduit._

* * *

><p>"Miss Zorah?"<p>

She jumped, looking around her. She was back within the odd group of aliens, her right hand still held before her visor and the human, Shepard, looking at her expectantly. Or so she guessed.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes, I...I mean..." The green stain on her forearm caught her gaze again and she tried to wipe it off. The blood had since long dried and the stain remained unmoved. She tried again, and again, almost hysterically and oblivious to the worried glances the aliens exchanged.

A large, armored, five fingered hand covered hers and stilled her movements. Her breathing was frantic and she couldn't get her eyes off her arm despite the human's proximity.

Another hand came to rest on her shoulder and squeezed it slightly, prompting her to tilt her head up to meet Shepard's hard gaze.

He watched her wordlessly for a mere moment before turning back to his squad.

"Let's have a break."

"Uh, I don't want to sound rude or anything Skipper," Ashley said bluntly "But shouldn't we rally the embassy as soon as humanly and alienly possible?"

"I've already contacted Udina. We have a meeting with the Council in about three Citadel hours." Shepard countered. "That's more than enough time to go to the Presidium, have a nap, make a tour and walk at an Elcor's pace."

"We're not even sure her evidence will be enough to convince them!"

"Saren was ready to alienate the Shadow Broker to get her. I'm willing to take my chances."

"Whatever you say Commander."

"I'm glad to have your approval Marine," He snarled before pointing to a shop a little further into the street that displayed large bay windows and a healthy amount of customers. "Secure a perimeter around that café. We're moving out as soon as Miss Zorah feels better."

"I'm fine!" Snapped the Quarian, regaining some measure of her usual energy.

"Right," sneered Shepard. "Well _I_ don't feel so good then. And as I am not supposed to let you out of my sight, you're going to sit with me. "

She seemed about to push the argument but a fierce stare from him stopped before she could get started. Wordlessly, the Quarian pulled away from him and stomped past him toward the café. Shepard exchanged an amused look with Wrex and diligently fell into step.

The café was quite a nice place, large glass bays were running across all the building length and customers were enjoying their drinks both inside and outside, separated from the Ward's crowd by a simple fence. If he didn't knew better, Shepard could have fooled himself in believing to be back to Earth. With aliens.

He caught up with the young pilgrim at the entrance of the establishment where she had been approached by an asari waitress.

"…blishment rules are clear, either you show me a credit chit proving you can pay, or you leave Quarian." The asari was wearing a mask of indifference despite her harsh words.

_Bloody hypocrites Squidheads. They smile while they stab you. _

"She's with me." He barked as he came to stand at Tali's side. "Want to see my creds?"

The waitress looked up at him. She considered him for a brief moment, her face unmoved. His weapons and armor caught her gaze and she offered the slightest bow.

"That won't be necessary sir. May I show you a table?"

"We'll find our way." He grumbled while gesturing to Tali to follow him inside.

"Thanks," she said once they sat at a table in the corner of the room, face to face.

"You're welcome," he mumbled absently as he took a look around. There were a dozen customers around, with his back facing the glass bay he was able to keep an eye on them all. Not that he would have the time to do anything if one of them suddenly decided to open fire on them.

"It's always like that," The Quarian said, a melancholic note in the voice that Shepard hadn't heard before. She was watching the table, her three fingered-hands fidgeting mindlessly before her. Her recent ire toward him seemed to have been replaced by a crushing sorrow. "My people is always looked down upon. They take us all for nothing but beggars and thieves. "

Shepard considered the alien in front of him for a second. At the first glance, she hadn't seemed like the complaining type.

_Time to make Sarge' proud…_

"Maybe that's because most of Quarians actually are." He said casually. He didn't had to look at her to know that her head suddenly snapped up, eyes narrowed, and that she most certainly glared at him fierce enough to make blink a Krogan Battlemaster.

"What?" She hissed dangerously.

He faced her with an arrogant smile. "You heard me. "

He never saw the slap coming. During a long period, all he knew was that the left side of his face felt like he had been head-butted by a Krogan and that an angry Quarian was shouting at him louder than such a petite woman should have been able to.

"**Det kazuat** **kel'ess Fre'eg! **You don't know anything about us! My people were suffering before you primates built your first steam engine! Don't you dare judge us! "

_Yup. From whatever hell drill sergeant are ending up , the chief is certainly smiling at me. _

Shepard waited patiently for her to finish her tirade while massaging his painful jaw. When she finally sat back, still fuming and staring at him defiantly he just grinned.

"Feeling better already?"

Taken aback, the young Quarian nervously looked around them, suddenly aware of the silent that fell on the café.

Ignoring the stares, Shepard leaned back.

"Tell me Miss Zorah, have you already been forced to steal to eat?"

Tali's temper flared again. "Still trying to jud-"

"I did," he cut her. "It is a strange feeling. To be desperate enough that you cannot see any other way to survive." Shepard's gaze started to wander into the void.

"It is a sign of strength to cry out against fate, rather than to bow one's head and succumb. When one's survival is on the balance of destiny, the will to endure is all that matters." He gazed back to her. "Quarians among Citadel space are mostly vagrants and thieves. That is a fact."

Tali gritted her tooth in anger.

"However, they are forced to be so, mostly because of peoples like this waitress. That is another fact." His face softened and lost some of his predatory look.

"Your people endure, no matter the odds. Be it living amongst a bunch of racist aliens or surviving on three hundred years old ship. That is not something to be ashamed of."

Tali was speechless. She was expecting contempt, hatred, maybe even pity. Not…respect. She remained silent for long minutes, while Shepard seemed happy to nurse his jaw in silence.

"Thank you," she muttered weakly. "I don't know what … I needed that. Thank you."

"My pleasure. Just don't hit me so hard next time, will you?"

She chuckled softly. "Not anytime soon, rest assured," She winced. "My hand is going to hurt for hours."

Shepard raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry Commander," She said jokingly. "Quarians have flexible bones. We virtually never break anything, but it can be quite painful."

"Be assured that I am most distressed to be the cause of such pain," he laughed. "Now, let's have this drink and be on our way, before the owner of the place decides that he had enough of us, shall we Miss Zorah?"

Despite herself, she grinned under her faceplate.

"I told you to call me Tali. And sterilized water will do for me."

"It's a show of respect amongst Humans to call someone by its last name", he scoffed. "And this will be on the Alliance bill, so knock yourself out."

"It's a show of respect amongst Quarians to do what you are told to do. And I don't need a fancy drink."

He sighed, feigning to be annoyed. "Fine. Let's make a deal. I'll call you by your name if you let me get you a fancy drink."

"Deal!" she laughed.

Moments later, they were both quietly enjoying their orders. Tali had fixed the tube to her mask and Shepard was sipping slowly his own drink.

After a while, Tali broke the silence.

"My last deal didn't end as well."

Shepard pondered his answer for a moment.

* * *

><p><em>With an inarticulate scream of rage, the Krogan bouncer charged him through a rain of fire. Each of his steps was making the floor shake and he merely shrugged off the dozens of shots that hit him every second. Almost disdainful, Shepard kept firing at the fast approaching alien in full-auto, even when the barrel of his rifle started to glow dangerously. <em>

_Inevitably, his weapon's overheat security activated, and with a final roar the Krogan was upon him. Dropping his rifle, he rolled to the side, dodging the furious charge by a mere inch. Somehow, he managed to hear William's loud swearing over the chaotic firefight. In the background, he noticed the bone-shaking roar of Wrex alongside the regular and methodic gunshots of Vakarian's sniper. _

_Beside him, Alenko was unloading his own rifle on a couple of turians on the other end of the room. His face was drawn by exhaustion, the result of using too much biotics. He was in for the mother of all headaches once this was over. _

_Shepard took it all as he kept rolling away from the hulking alien, his system flooded by adrenalin. In a split second, he recovered his equilibrium. An another, and he was already rushing toward the stumbling Krogan which tried to lost his momentum. _

_Alliance Marines are not thoroughly trained to engage Krogans in a knife fight. It is an almost non-existing situ ation, which results most of the time in a gruesome death. N7 special operatives are. _

_The alien, a creature borne to reveal in the slaughter, was lost to the blood rage. His already formidable senses were increased tenfold by the rush of battle. He heard Shepard's mad run from afar, spun violently around and threw him a blow strong enough to behead him. _

_The Commander rolled under the Krogan massive arm and ended up crouch behind him. His knife slashed through his foe's knee joint and with a heavy grunt, the Krogan fell to one knee. _

_He tried to catch him, clawed hands swinging wildly through the air, but the human was already away. Blinded by the pain and the bloodlust, he never saw the next blow coming. Shepard's armored knee connected with the alien's face, sending a few tooth flying while the blow threw his head back. The human took a firm hold of his enemy's crest and thrust his knife to the hilt into the massive throat. It took all his strength to slice through the Krogan's tendons and muscles in one swift movement, before pulling back out of the agonizing Krogan reach. _

_The throat open from literally one ear to the other, even his species incredible ability to regenerate almost everything could not save the Krogan. Nonetheless, he tried to get up. Like most of his kin, he would not stay down until his very last drop of blood had left his body. _

And the bastard's got a lot of it…

_The alien was still struggling to get up when Shepard's feet hit him square in the chest. He lost what few balance he had left and fell backward. Before he could react, Shepard was dominating him and shoved his Predator barrel into his wide opened throat. He shot until the weapon overheated, just to be sure. _

_Only moments later, the fighting came to a stop. _

_The last thug fell silently, his sheer weigh making the floor shake in his fall. Wrex snarled at the Krogan's body, his mind still somewhat shrouded by the haze of battle. _

_A strange silence covered the room, disturbed only by the occasional moan of the injured mercenary and the loud breaths of the team. Garrus was the first to speak. _

"_C-Sec is on its way. I can't delay them much longer." _

"_Understood," panted Shepard, "Bring me Fist, if he is still alive." He ordered his team. _

_It came to pass that the thug was still breathing, despite one of his leg being reduced to a pile of gore by a shotgun volley. The interrogation was quick. The man was too shocked to hold anything back. At the very time he had what he needed to know, Shepard turned toward Wrex. _

"_All yours." He said, earning a vicious grin from the mercenary._

_With that, he headed toward the exit, quickly followed by the rest of his team._

* * *

><p>"Trust me. It ended better for you than for the other dealer." He finally sighed.<p>

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say that Fist won't make a deal anytime soon…"

There was a sharp noise, so low that Shepard barely noticed it. He almost missed the customers' alarmed gasps too but even then, he couldn't bring himself to focus on it. Everything was moving slowly, as if underwater. People, aliens and humans alike, jumping from their seats and running away, panicked shouts he couldn't hear. Somehow, his mind managed to focus back on Tali, in front of him. She was up and pointing at his chest, she was talking but he couldn't decipher what she said. He tried to ask her to speak louder, forcing his lips to move to form the words but nothing came out. Only then did he registered the pain in his chest. Looking down, all he saw was a ridiculously tiny hole in his chest plate, and from it a continuous flow of blood was pouring out, drenching him in gore.

His arms felt weak, his brain confused and wandering in the fog. He tried to get up put only managed to stumble onto the table. Tali was at his sides, hopelessly trying to support the heavy human as he threatened to slump to the floor. Finally, N7's training kicked in and Shepard's mind managed to see past the mist that tried to swallow him. He grabbed one corner of the table and flipped it down in one swift swing, so that it faced the windows. He grabbed the young Quarian by the waist and brought her down with him behind the table. He tried to take a deep breath but a sharp pain flared from his wounded chest and he coughed blood. Panic nearly overflowed him. Drowning in your own blood, as he had already witnessed, was a particularly horrible way of dying.

He mentally slapped himself and focused back to the situation.

_The shot ignored both my shield and armor. That table could as well be made of paper for what it's worth._

As if to confirm his thoughts, a shot burst right between him and Tali, miraculously missing them both.

"Alenko," he called on his squad frequency as a new spike of pain stroke him, "I'm hit…Past right through the shields and armor…Sniper. Turian. Find him."

If the lieutenant responded, he didn't hear him.

Agonizing long minutes passed and Shepard could feel himself slowly slip away. All he could do was listening to Tali's increasingly desperate babble and keep a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from getting up. One after another, his senses abandoned him. At some point, he felt himself slumping to the floor and someone dragging him against the nearest wall.

Finally, after what appeared to last an eternity, footsteps drew near. Ash was the first to find them and her gaze hardened when she realized in what state was their Commander.

"We've had him Skipper." She said sternly while she knelt at his side and began pouring medi-gel into his wound. The rest of the team watched silently as Shepard tried to catch his breath.

"Alenko, Williams," he coughed painfully, droplets of blood escaping at each word he spat, "Get Zorah to the embassy, she's all that matters…"

"What? No!" the young pilgrim protested. "We've got to…"

"Right, sorry," he snorted."Get _Tali _to the embassy, and that's an order."

His breath went ragging for a couple of second until he straightened against the wall. "Wrex, you go with them."

The Krogan let out an irritate snarl. "Why should I? Fist is dead, I'm done with you."

"Because I fucking said so!" Shepard spat back, glaring furiously at the mercenary.

Wrex stared down at him for a few seconds and grunted, clearly satisfied.

Appeased, Shepard glanced back at the two humans.

"Go now, I'll catch up later."

"Aye, Aye, sir."

Without a word, Kaidan bend down to help Tali getting up. Ashley hesitated a moment, she saluted her commander and stood still, clearly torn up.

Shepard nodded weakly to her, doing his best to muster a smile without much success.

Focusing back to her mission, she grabbed Tali by the arm and dragged her out, quickly followed by Kaiden and Wrex.

Shepard exchanged a tired glance with an equally tired Garrus, he tried to get up but only seemed to slump a little more.

"Officer Vakarian…I might need your help."

"Right, let's ask the complacent Turian to carry the heroic human to the nearest hospital like a good little sidekick," Garrus joked as he placed one of Shepard's arm around his shoulders and helped him to get up. "Do you have any idea how heavy you mammals are?"

"Sorry'bout that," he mumbled weakly. Everything around him started to blur dangerously. "Point me in the right direction…I'll do the crawling."

* * *

><p><strong>Well? How was it? <strong>

**I have to confess, I have one major fear: I don't want to sin with Mary Suesques characters. I want all of them to live, feel hope and despair! So please, if you think I'l doing something wrong, please, pretty please tell me!**

**If you have the feeling that someone's OOC, if you have any constructive criticism , please tell me!**

**Also, I'm still somehow defining who this Shepard is. In case that was not clear, he's not very fond of aliens. Thing is, he is not very fond of humans either. **


End file.
